


The Face of Love

by ilija



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Crack, F/M, absolutely terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1207654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilija/pseuds/ilija
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschstein: mastermind of wooing, internal Shakespearean-dialogue included. But alas, his crush remains unnoticed by the object of his affection. So, he copes in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Face of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr. The first fanwork I made for this series months and months ago for a dear friend. I must pre-emptively apologize, everyone.

Jean Kirschstein was in love. More simply put he was practically in obsession, like a teenager stalking a boyband member level, but he wouldn’t ever go to that level because he’s not that much of a nerd. Jean Kirschstein was in love, his boners were raging, and the girl of his dreams barely knew he existed. Probably because most of the time they were off killing giants from some fucked up Jack and the Beanstalk shit, but that didn’t make the pain in his kokoro any better.

Jean should be a master of this ‘wooing’ thing! His name was ‘Jean’ for Chrissake, which was French, and French was the language of love. (Never mind that his last name was German for ‘cherry pit’ which was probably why he acted like such a fucking virgin. “Durrr huuuh uhhhh” were the first words he ever spoke to his crush.) But his dear crush, sweet beautiful queen of his poor thumping heart, Mikasa Ackerman, was oblivious to anything except her rage encrusted brother-maybe Eren Jaeger. Jean once entertained the idea of dressing as Eren so that way Mikasa would maybe smile at “him” but that would be incestuous and creepy and he had to run ten laps for wasting a lot of soap washing himself afterward in the shower. He even attempted to hit up a brojob from his best friend Marco to ease his suffering but Marco was dead so that plan was scrapped immediately.

What was poor Jean Kirschstein to do?

After a long internal Shakespearan-style inner monologue that I’m too fucking lazy to type up, Jean convinced himself that a little bit of Mikasa was better than no Mikasa at all. And with that, his dick-addled brain formulated a plan. It was a masterful plan. Those nerds could find a way to kill all the Titans throughout Wall Maria and beyond but this plan was better than that could ever be.

"Oh, Mikasa," Jean groaned into his pillow like a twelve year old would the first time he searched ‘boob’ on the Attack on Titan version of Google. "Oh Mikasa, your hair feels so wonderful," he muttered as he stroked his eyebrow. For you see, Jean had named his right eyebrow Mikasa. Not only that, he had named his left eyebrow ‘Ackerman’ as well. It was basically like having Mikasa Ackerman on his face and it was very symbolic. How about them apples, Armin, you literature geek? Jean Kirschstein was a goddamn genius, and he reveled in this egotistical cock stroking as he rolled onto his back as he continued to stroke his eyebrows.

Beautiful Mikasa… surely her hair wasn’t as rough and stiff as Jean’s eyebrows, which the anime has clearly underestimated, but they were thick and dark and that was enough for Jean’s desperation. He was like a man in the desert with a small oasis, a teen girl stuck in a haunted forest with just enough gas to get her out, a fifty year old sex addict in a room with six hookers. Jean couldn’t stop murmuring to himself as he wriggled around and messed up the sheets. That would be twenty laps but he could take it.

Suddenly, the door opened, like some cliche yaoi fanfiction would go, and Jean by instinct clenched his anus and hid his hands. He had some goddamn tiny hands and he would not allow this to become the next Junjou. Damnit Marco, I’m trying to get some hand-to-dick action here.

But Marco was DEAD

and the only other dark haired man was Berthodl— Bertie— BERTHOLDT but he was probably too busy trying to score some Heiss Deutsch Arsch from Reiner. Was it Marco’s ghost? Fuck, it would fucking figure that Marco would come back as a succubus, he was always rubbing Jean’s ego and now he wanted to rub Jean’s prostate.

Except somehow, Marco had grown small firm tits and hips and was wearing some dumb Jaeger-esque scarf. Wait, scratch that, it was Mikasa. And because Mikasa was wearing that scarf it suddenly became very pretty. Slowly, Jean’s boner shrunk and enough blood rushed back to his brain to make him realize that he had been firmly rubbing his eyebrows while moaning Mikasa’s name like an overexposed pornstar.

How was Jean Kirschstein ever to get out of this one?

Remember, Jean Kirschstein was a genius, so his genius brain hatched yet another brilliant plan: “I named them after you because they mean so much to me.”

Scratch that. Jean Kirschstein is an idiot and a virgin, and Mikasa had more muscles in one finger than Jean did in his entire arm. Damn, he loves a woman who could kick his ass… mm.

While he was distracted, Mikasa said, “I am too much for one man to satisfy,” and punched him in the solar plexus so hard he flew through three buildings. Truthfully it was the force of his ejaculation that propelled him backward but he let Mikasa think she was the cause of him flying through the last two because it made her happy and Jean loved Mikasa Ackerman and he lived almost happily ever after because she was still attached to that moron Eren even after she saw Jean’s dick.

~the end~


End file.
